Pages

My Blog and I

My name is Diana. I am the blogger behind Offbeat Vagabond. I just
wanted something to help me rant on about things I love or don't quite
love. I am big on books, especially Urban
Fantasy, it is my favorite genre. Any Romance has to be Paranormal,
because love isn't natural without a gun and a beast involved. Although my tastes are very much expanding, I have discovered a love for Contemporary even BDSM (shocking!) I love
movies. Sci-fi/Fantasy/Horror/Action, pretty much anything as long as no
Romantic Comedies are involved (Katherine Heigl, you have been warned).
Music, TV, Wrestling are all my things as well (although I haven't been watching Wrestling as much as I used to). I am doing this for fun. I want to
write on a professional front, so blogging is a good stepping stone for
me. I just hope that stone doesn't have moss and I slip and break
something. So join me in my little piece of the Internet and remember,
it is normal to be abnormal

Christy Sheridan has come a long way from the physical and emotional wreck she used to be. She's made Alden her home and is happily engaged to a man who loves and accepts her for who she is, curves, quirks, and geekiness included. Life is good. Until mommy dearest blows into town to "help" her clueless daughter seal the deal.

Cole Bowen is experiencing a world of firsts: first time in love, first engagement, first Valentine's, first in-laws. He's found the woman of his dreams, so he figured dealing with Martha Sheridan was a small price to pay. That is before his monster-in-law plants herself in their home and inside Christy's head, stirring up old demons and destroying her newly regained self-esteem. And while his hands are full with trying to neutralize their meddlesome guest, a mysterious phone call turns his world upside down.

With ghosts from the past resurfacing and threatening to tear Cole and Christy apart, can they make it to the wedding they both so desperately want, or will heavy secrets send their relationship to the breaking point?

“How
many years do you think I’d get for offing my mom? Because honest
to God, if we’re talking single digits, I’m willing to risk it,”
Christy said while leaning back on the lounge chair after getting a
full-body massage that had left her totally gooey.

They
were at the spa, wearing fluffy bathrobes and sipping tea, except for
Christy, who was nursing a diet soda.

“Just
name a time and place, and we’ll be there with a shovel. No
questions asked,” Annie said, and Holly and Tate assented.

“I
could claim temporary insanity.” Heck, emotional self-defense too.

“Don’t
worry, we’ll vouch for you. No jury in its right mind would convict
you,” Holly stated. “I thought you were exaggerating, but boy,
were you understating. What a…character.”

Ha.
That was one way of putting it.

Annie
nodded in commiseration. She’d met Martha a long time ago, when the
girls were in college. Christy had gone for an East Coast
institution, hoping it would be out of her mom’s range, but going
away had been useless. There was no place far enough.

“Checking
out wedding dresses. She arranged an appointment at a bridal shop. I
stood her up.”

Her
whole posse turned to her, looking stupefied.

“She’s
picking out a wedding dress without the bride?”

Yeah,
typical Martha stunt.

“I
know I should be there, but why, really? She won’t listen to
anything I say. I might as well save my breath.”

And
a whole lot of pain and abuse in the process.

The
girls pondered for a second and then nodded.

“Oh,
and remember,” Christy added, reaching for her diet soda. “I’m
not here. I’m in the middle of a massive twelve-car accident. Well
and healthy but stuck inside the vehicle and waiting for the
firefighters to come and cut the roof open to rescue me.”

That
her mom hadn’t rushed to her side when Christy called her—and
that Christy had known she wouldn’t—already said it all.

“And
when your mom realizes your car is intact? Then what?” Tate asked,
to which Christy couldn’t help snorting.

“That
would imply she remembered our talk. It won’t happen. A total
impossibility.”

Christy
would bet anything, her first unborn child included—and her second
and third—that her mom wouldn’t even mention it. That was the
advantage of being disappointed one too many times; no way in hell to
harbor false illusions.

Martha’s
number-one priority was…Martha. Followed by whatever man she was
screwing with at the moment. How she’d managed to marry a decent
guy and keep him for several years was beyond Christy. Then again,
Fred was too kind for his own good. That or he had a hell of a lot of
bad karma from a previous life.

For
a split second, she’d considered going to the bridal shop, but then
she’d discarded the idea. Defaulting to her
smile-accept-and-walk-away technique, she’d nodded and kept quiet.
And had run in the opposite direction at the first chance. Let her
mother get her kicks. Just let her do it far away from Christy.
Besides, there was no damage Martha could do; Christy had told the
shop assistant not to reserve anything without her consent.

“She
knows. She just doesn’t care.” They were talking about a woman
who had gotten married four times, once with a beer-can tab as a
ring. Appointments at high-scale bridal shops were a dream come true
for her. “I feel like a shitty daughter, but I’m so ready for her
to leave.”

Martha
had come for Christmas with her husband and stayed a couple of days.
It had gone rather well, probably because Cole was scary enough and
Martha hadn’t worked herself up to be…well, herself. This time
around, she’d been in Alden for three days, without Fred, and
Christy was ready to face the gallows for a chance to get rid of her.

Fate
had thrown Christy the mother of all curve balls when it chose Martha
as her sole parent.

Their
relationship had always been complicated, to say the least, with
Christy spending all her life putting out fires—Martha’s—and
eating to cope. Eventually she’d gotten her food addiction under
control, but changing her mom and her nasty ways was something out of
her reach.

And
having Martha living with her without Fred as a buffer was bringing
up all sorts of feelings and automatic coping mechanisms that Christy
had thought she’d left behind.

Lora,
Christy’s former sponsor, had been right: nothing guaranteed
recovery, and they were always one upset away from relapse.

“What
about Cole?” Tate asked, taking Christy out of her reverie. “Isn’t
he putting her in her place?”

He
would if he knew. Apparently Martha was learning subtlety, at least
in front of a 240-pound, uncompromising ex-marine. It also helped
that Christy had asked him not to interfere. Cole was a
black-and-white kind of person. Intransigent and not inclined to put
up with moronities. Left to his own devices, he would have kicked
Martha out the first day.

“She’s…contained
around him. I think she’s scared of him.”

“She
and half the world, sister,” Holly mumbled.

Christy
rolled her eyes and, after reaching inside the pocket of her
bathrobe, fished out a sugar-free cherry lollipop. “Come on. Cole
is a harmless sweetie.” Who liked macho power tripping and playing
with cuffs, but a sweetie nonetheless.

They’d
been together for six months, and although they’d clashed several
times, he’d kept his word and hadn’t shut her out. He’d leave
to cool down—sometimes he went to his brother James’s; sometimes
she saw him pacing up and down the yard, muttering under his
breath—but he always came back and they always found middle ground.

“To
you he’s harmless,” Holly corrected as Christy unwrapped the
candy. “Wait until he finds out about the pole-dancing classes.
Mike already told Kyra to up her insurance. And to make sure there
are no guys lurking around during said classes.”

Cole
and his men had started working on Kyra’s dance studio right before
Christmas and had gotten it ready in no time. Anything to get the
exotic aerobics and the horde of giggling women in tight thongs out
of Haddican’s, the local gym, and away from so much bubbling
testosterone.

“It’s
all Annie’s fault,” Christy shot back, giving her friend the evil
eye. “She signed me up without asking.”

Christy
wasn’t much for showing herself off, and pole dancing was exactly
that, but Kyra had been so excited to have her and Tate on board that
it had been impossible to get out of it without hurting Kyra’s
feelings.

On
the plus side, Martha hadn’t found out about her daughter’s new
hobby. She would have made fun of Christy or joined the classes.
Either way, no number of twelve-step meetings would have helped
Christy get through that trauma. Her mother was many things, but ugly
and clumsy she wasn’t. That her ass and boobs were still perkily
pointing north and that she moved perfectly to capitalize on that
also helped. Working a pole under her reproving stare would have
killed Christy and her shaky, newly developed self-esteem. For all
Martha’s dumb decisions in her personal life—and boy, were there
plenty—she had a witty tongue and knew how to deliver killer
putdowns.

“Duh,
you would have said no,” Annie replied, bringing her back to the
present. “And I owed you one after you got me into exotic
aerobics.”

“You
know I can’t quit the exotic aerobics. I needed company.” Christy
had gone there just on a whim, but then Cole saw her and, in one of
his my-way-or-the-highway stunts, had tossed her over his shoulder
and stomped out of the class. Now she couldn’t quit, just on
principle. She needed to stand her ground with Cole, especially when
he was being a control freak and attempting to fuck her into
submission, which was very often.

Besides,
she liked that class. And defying Cole.

Annie
pursed her lips. “A pregnant woman wiggling her ass around a chair
and pretending to be sexy is…definitely not.”

“I’m
pretty sure Max feels otherwise,” Holly said. “I’ve seen him
watching you. No way to disguise that look.”

Damn
right. Christy had seen it on Cole’s face many times. Before and
after fucking her senseless. Heck, while too. She loved that
proprietary look. It said she was beautiful and he needed her. For
someone who’d battled self-esteem issues all her life, it meant the
world. Cole meant the world to her.

They
were all rosy from their facial massages, yet Annie visibly flushed.
“Hmm, that’s for yoga?”

Christy
couldn’t stifle the giggle. Neither could Holly or Tate.

Yeah,
because Max was such a yoga type.

Christy
dipped her sugar-free lollipop on her diet soda. “If I’m making
an ass out of myself and Kyra is risking the integrity of her new
business, you’re joining us after recovering from childbirth.”

Annie
grimaced, pointing at Christy’s glass. “That’s gross. I thought
you were cutting back on your weird stuff.”

Yeah,
she’d thought that too. Until her mom blew into town.

“Cola-flavored
cherry lollipop or cherry-flavored soda. Not weirder than scooping
Nutella with bacon.”

“True,
but I’m hormonal.”

Ha!
Pregnancy hormones had nothing on the spike of anxiety that Martha
created.

“By
the way, Tate,” Holly chimed in, “did you get a pole installed in
the bedroom?”

Now
it was Tate blushing. “Yes.”

“And?”

She
blushed even harder. She was six months pregnant, and although she
had some limitations where the movements were concerned, Christy had
seen her dance. Tate really knew how to make it work. She kicked ass.
Pregnant and all.

“James
loved it. As in really loved it.”

“On
a scale of one to ten?” Holly asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Thirty.
And don’t worry,” Tate hurried to appease Christy. “I made him
promise he won’t say a word to Cole about the classes.”

Good,
because Mike was right. If Cole found out, Kyra was going to need
top-of-the-line insurance, especially with Amantis’s dancing crew
and the security detail snooping around.

“Although
I don’t see the big issue. It’s for Cole. Whenever you’re
ready, he’ll be the one enjoying the result of the classes, right?”

“Right,”
Christy mumbled. She’d started liking it, but considering how
klutzy she felt at pole dancing, it was going to take a couple of
decades before Cole got to see her.

“We
are deviating from the subject, people. We were talking about how to
off my mom, remember?”

Tate
waved around. “That’s easy. We bring her here, lock her in the
sauna, and turn it to high.”

“It
won’t work. She’s from LA. And she lived in Georgia for a while,
chasing after some crocodile hunter. The heat’s nothing for her.”

“Or
now that we have plenty of props,” Holly said with a wink, “we
could plant Tate’s dance pole somewhere in the forest and cuff
Martha to it. Leave her for the wolves.”

Poor
wolves. Her mother would have them committing suicide in no time.
Christy couldn’t do that to them.

“Must
be a simpler way. Can’t you just send her to hell?”

Christy
shrugged. It was easier said than done. Her mom had the nasty habit
of doing something nice whenever Christy was reaching critical mass.
She couldn’t send her to hell in good conscience.

The
girls couldn’t understand. Annie had a kick-ass mom. Tate too.
Holly’s she didn’t know, but the messages between mother and
daughter were hilarious, so she imagined their relationship was
solid. People with great parents had no clue how difficult it was to
deal with bad ones.

“How
long until she leaves?”

“Still
a while. Thirteen days, nine hours”—Christy reached for her
cell—“twenty-five minutes and thirty-five seconds, to be exact.”

Annie
chuckled. “You keeping track?”

“I
have a countdown set.” Every twenty-four hours, an app sent her a
yay-you-can-do-this message. “She’s leaving four days before
Valentine’s Day. She wants to be in LA then, so that she can
prepare for it.”

“Four
days in advance?” Holly asked. “What’s she planning on doing
for her husband?”

“For
Fred? Nothing. She goes to make sure he gets her all that she wants.”

“Oh
boy.”

“You
can say that again. How he puts up with her, I don’t know.”

Her
smile-accept-and-walk-away technique was failing her big-time now
that they were both under the same roof. Or maybe it was that she had
gotten a taste for normal and supportive with Cole, and going back to
mental was hard.

“We
should call Fred and get some pointers,” Holly suggested. “Thirteen
days is a long time. Spending your and Cole’s first Valentine’s
Day in jail wouldn’t be too much fun.”

“The
geeky version of Valentine’s,” Annie said. “I was there once
with her. Memorable. Not going ever again.”

Christy
rolled her eyes and turned to Holly and Tate. “There’s a Star
Trek convention held in Vegas the weekend before Valentine’s every
year.” Plus this year they had the premiere of a new Star Trek
movie. “And no, I’m not going. Cole wouldn’t be caught dead in
a place like that. I’ve been dropping hints about it for a couple
of months already, but he isn’t biting.”

Holly
patted her on the arm. “So no hanging out with your nerdy friends
and stuck with your mom. That sucks.”

Yep.
Totally.

﻿

*********************************************

About Elle Aycart

After a colorful array of jobs all over Europe ranging from translator to chocolatier to travel agent to sushi chef to flight dispatcher, Elle Aycart is certain of one thing and one thing only: aside from writing romances, she has abso-frigging-lutely no clue what she wants to do when she grows up. Not that it stops her from trying all sorts of crazy stuff.

While she is probably now thinking of a new profession, her head never stops churning new plots for her romances. She lives currently in Barcelona, Spain, with her husband and two daughters, although who knows, in no time she could be living at the Arctic Circle in Finland, breeding reindeer.

With a strong Lovecraftian bent, this is the continuing saga of ordinary human resistors who must sacrifice their normal lives in favor of fighting for all humankind

When autumn descends on Prospero, California, Ben Pastor hopes that the normality of the new school year may offer a reprieve from the town’s recent paranormal horrors. Mina Todd, however, knows all too well that there are no reprieves and no normality in this town, especially after she starts having crippling, unexplained hallucinations of the dead. But even she can’t prepare for what the coming year holds. On top of a brewing civil war that threatens all of humanity, inside the walls of Prospero High, Ben, Mina and their expanding network face a sinister campaign that aims to destroy their friendship, a newly human Haley Perkin struggling to readjust to life, and an assassin of untold power who is picking off human rebels. Ben and Mina’s one hope may rest with a mysterious figure hiding in the woods outside of town; a living legend who may know how to stop this dangerous new breed of supernatural foe. That is, assuming the figure doesn’t first kill everyone himself.

Matt
and I get a lot of questions about how we manage to write books as
partners. Not so much about how we manage to write books about
partners. The two go pretty beautifully together to make the stories
we tackle together different from what one of us could do alone.

The
majority of YA books follow a single perspective. The majority of
fiction in general has a single, easily identifiable protagonist,
even if other characters are heard from. There's nothing at all wrong
with that, and Matt and I both love telling stories that way on our
own, but The
Prospero Chronicles
takes a different technique.

This
series is about Ben and Mina. Mina and Ben. They're partners,
friends, and opposites in many ways. They get equal time to tell
things from their sides, and they both do it as earnestly as if they
were the only hero to hear from. Making a male and female character
literally equal protagonists is an example we really like
encouraging, but there's more to it than that. As a pair, they're
able to add complexity to a lot of elements of the story compared
with what we'd be able to see through one of them alone.

We
get to see what it's like in Mina's head, with all her neurological
abnormalities and all the terrible things she's been through,
sympathize with her, and then be reminded from Ben's side how almost
inexcusably awful she can sometimes be to the people close to her. We
get her hardened, pragmatic view of the invading Splinters and what
should be done about them, and then Ben reminds us to shake off the
jaded blinders, and see what's being done to the people of Prospero
with fresh eyes.

Having
two real life minds working on the story makes a huge difference in
giving honesty to the two minds on the page. It helps develop
separate, distinct voices, of course, but it also allows Matt and me
to immerse ourselves even deeper in a character's feelings and
worldview than we could if we were solely in charge of a rounded
story, because we can count on each other to put things back in
perspective when necessary.

Sometimes
we take it a little far. We've actually had real life arguments that
boiled down to both of us still being in character while trying to
discuss an issue from one of our books and clashing exactly the way
our characters are set up to do. Of course once we realize what we're
doing, we laugh, take a step back and talk about what's best for the
story from the outside, which usually means harnessing the conflict
we just discovered.

The
real life dichotomy fuels the fictional one wonderfully for us, but
whether writing with a real life partner or tackling two protagonist
psyches at once by yourself, I'm sure the principles are much the
same. Namely, contrast and balance.

Contrast,
because if partners don't bring differences, there's no point in
having two of them. There always has to be the humanist versus the
absolutist, or logic versus feeling, innocence versus
world-weariness, chaos versus order, etc. Any number of varying
contrasts, preferably several rolled together. Each side needs to
bring a different form of perspective, or you've just got a hero
talking himself/herself in two voices.Balance
because otherwise you don't have partners or co-protagonists, you
have a protagonist and a sidekick, or worse, a protagonist and a
straw man. Both characters need things to do that the other can't do
for them. They both need their own instances of those pivotal,
plot-determining decisions that a protagonist makes. They both need
to be right sometimes, and wrong sometimes, and be changed by their
relationship with each other.Matt
and I have a fantastic time with the Ben and Mina dynamic, their
problems, their friendship, and the way they force each other to
grow, and we hope the readers enjoy them too.Our
next pair of co-protagonists in our current work in progress, Agent
Ingénue Versus The Lord of Terror,
are going to be adversaries rather than partners, but the principles
are turning out to be surprisingly similar. We can't wait to share
them with everyone as well.

*********************************************

About FJR Titchenell & Matt Carter

F.J.R.Titchenell

F.J.R. Titchenell is an author of Young Adult, Sci-Fi, and Horror fiction. She is represented by Jennifer Mishler of Literary Counsel and lives in San Gabriel, California with her husband, Matt Carter, and their pet king snake, Mica.

Matt Carter

Matt Carter is an author of Horror, Sci-Fi, and yes even a little bit of Young Adult fiction. Along with his wife and frequent co-author, F.J.R. Titchenell, he is represented by Jennifer Mishler of Literary Counsel and lives in the usually sunny town of San Gabriel, CA.

His first book, The Prospero Chronicles: Splinters (the first of a five book series), will be released on September 23, 2014, through Jolly Fish Press.

Christy Sheridan has come a long way from the physical and emotional wreck she used to be. She's made Alden her home and is happily engaged to a man who loves and accepts her for who she is, curves, quirks, and geekiness included. Life is good. Until mommy dearest blows into town to "help" her clueless daughter seal the deal.

Cole Bowen is experiencing a world of firsts: first time in love, first engagement, first Valentine's, first in-laws. He's found the woman of his dreams, so he figured dealing with Martha Sheridan was a small price to pay. That is before his monster-in-law plants herself in their home and inside Christy's head, stirring up old demons and destroying her newly regained self-esteem. And while his hands are full with trying to neutralize their meddlesome guest, a mysterious phone call turns his world upside down.

With ghosts from the past resurfacing and threatening to tear Cole and Christy apart, can they make it to the wedding they both so desperately want, or will heavy secrets send their relationship to the breaking point?

After a colorful array of jobs all over Europe ranging from translator to chocolatier to travel agent to sushi chef to flight dispatcher, Elle Aycart is certain of one thing and one thing only: aside from writing romances, she has abso-frigging-lutely no clue what she wants to do when she grows up. Not that it stops her from trying all sorts of crazy stuff.

While she is probably now thinking of a new profession, her head never stops churning new plots for her romances. She lives currently in Barcelona, Spain, with her husband and two daughters, although who knows, in no time she could be living at the Arctic Circle in Finland, breeding reindeer.

You could say that Selene Vanream has a lot of problems. First there’s the Rot that’s slowly killing her, despite everything Ilyse and Micah are doing to find a way to save her.

Then there’s Andrew, the ghost of her boss who is anchored to the living world. Selene would like to ignore him, but anchored ghosts with unsettled business turn into anchored beasties, so she can’t write him off. The government has sent a team to post up at Affairs of the Dead and keep an eye on her, which includes making sure she plays up to Andrew to keep him from turning.

On top of that, someone is using Selene’s new power to create anchored ghosts for their loved ones to keep around. Not good since the culprit doesn’t have a clue about that whole anchored beastie angle. Now Selene has a criminal to catch while trying to stay out of the hands of government goons who have stripping her reanimation power on their agenda.

When Micah and Ilyse finally find a way to save her, Selene thinks she can cross one bad thing off her list--until she learns the terrible price that must be paid to keep her alive. Full plate doesn’t cover it. Overflowing plate doesn’t cover it. Selene’s plate has damn near exploded.

*********************************************

Requiem for the Living is the sequel for the Affairs of the Dead by A.J. Locke. I really enjoyed the first book in the series. It was a great debut and I found a new author to love. I enjoyed this sequel even more. I had a couple of issues here and there with book 1, but Locke did a great job incorporating different elements in Requiem for the Living that made this an even better read for me.

We are still following our main character. Selene. Selene is dying due to her being bound to a ghost named Ethan who lives with her now. She is suffering from what is known as the Rot. Things that have taken place in the first book are coming back to haunt her (no pun intended, honestly). Her dying is the least of the issues she has to deal with. Someone is burying people in her backyard to anchor them to her so they are still wondering the Earth. Sadly, they do not know that ghosts who are left alone to wonder the Earth end up turning into raging monsters. Selene and her team of friends have to figure out who is leaving dead bodies around her home before people start getting killed.

I really loved Selene in this book. I loved her in the first book, but I may or may not have called her a bitch (okay, I did). But like a said, her actions and choices drove me nuts at times. This time around, while she is still the same girl, she is different. It is more than her dying, I think it is due to Micah, who I just adore. I wish I could just pull him straight out of the book, he is so freaking perfect. I loved that we got some backstory from both her and Micah. I could relate to them more and understand why they are the way they are, specifically Selene.

I loved our adorably nerdy ghost Ethan. I loved when it was just Ethan, Micah, and Selene. They always come off as parents to him. Ethan is trying his best to avoid his own though, so they kind of had to step in. We are also still graced with Andrew's presence since he is anchored because of Selene. His unfinished business made me laugh and terrified me at the same time. I just couldn't believe it. I didn't like him alive and I hate him in his afterlife. I know that sounds awful, but trust me, you will feel the same way.

Like I said in my review for Affair of the Dead, Locke's worldbuilding is amazing. I love the imagination and creativity that is oozing throughout this book. Hell, throughout this series I love my ghost stories and this is one of the coolest. Not to mention, one of the most unique. I love the amounts of action in this book as well as the mystery. This series has such a great balance between Urban Fantasy and Mystery. It is a beautiful marriage especially due to Locke's brilliant writing. Her work has a certain energy to it, if that makes sense. Even in slower scenes, I am still engaged because the characters have such interesting conversations. I am serious. When they are not chasing down baddies, this story is lots of fun when they get together. Selene, Micah, and Ethan just always have me cracking up. Selene has quite the sharp tongue, so it is fun reading their dialogue. Not to mention, the scenes where we learn more about the characters as well. They are memorable as it is, but like I said, it makes them more real and they feel more grounded.

Overall, this was one hell of a sequel. Locke did a great job with this book. The villains in the book, just...oh goodness. My brain still can't handle it, but I am pushing through. The ending of this book was insane to say the least. To say I am impatient for the next book is an understatement. I highly recommend Requiem for the Living for anyone wanting an original ghost story or for someone who loves Paranormal/Mystery stories. I recommend this to anyone who is looking for an intriguing story with some lovable characters. Locke has done it again.

A.J.
Locke is originally from Trinidad and Tobago but has resided in New
York City for over ten years. She knew early on that she wanted to be
a writer, penned her first novel at fourteen, and hasn’t stopped
since. Creating is her passion, and other than writing she enjoys
drawing, painting, graphic design, and any other creative whim that
may take her.